by Jon Smith
This is my story with my high school crush. My crush Matt was two grades younger than me. He was lean but muscled, and he was social and popular where I was quiet and shy. His blonde hair was straight and well-groomed and he was so hot that I couldn’t resist looking at him whenever I had the chance. A couple of times he might’ve caught me looking, but I was good at playing it cool. This is the story of one week I had over summer break.
He was my little brother's best friend and he had come over to our house for the week while his house was getting some work done. Everytime he'd ever come over I'd come out of my room to get a cup of water or something to see him. We never talked much though.
When he came over, both my parents would be gone at work during the day, and both were doctors who worked long hours, so it'd often be well past dinner before they came home. Because I was the older one, they asked me to look after my brother and his friend while they were gone. Little did they know what would happen...
Matt had just gotten back from his morning run, and my brother was spending the day with his girlfriend. I left my room and went downstairs.
"Hey, fetch me a coke!" Matt said to me. No please or anything, just asked me without even looking up from the game he was playing on our PS4.
"Sure," I murmured. I opened the fridge to get him his coke. He was lying across the couch with his feet propped up on one of the armrests. I handed it to him, but he cocked his head to one side to motion for me to put it on the table.
"Hey, I can't see!"
Something about his cockiness really made me horny for him, and it made me want to do everything he asked of me.
"Oh, sorry." I put the coke quickly on the table and sat on the armchair on the other side of the couch. From where I sat, I could see the soles of his socks clearly. They were thin, white socks but I could see the outline of his feet from the gray sweat marks on them. His feet were so big, and they looked so dominant facing me as Matt played Call of Duty. He glanced at me quickly, and I quickly looked away from his feet, before getting back to his game.
I was terrified he'd seen me stare at his feet, but I played it cool again and started watching him playing. He was good at video games too, but as he played I became more and more distracted from the game. He looked like everything I'd never be, lying on the couch with his head on one armrest and his feet propped up on the other, facing me. It was as if he were saying that my place belonged beneath his feet.
"How was your jog?" I asked him, trying to make conversation.
"What I can't hear you? Come closer if you want to talk."
I got up from the armchair, but he didn't shift at all to let me sit on the couch, so I sat on the floor by his legs. "How was your jog?"
But he was too busy concentrating on shooting in his game to have even noticed that I came over like he'd asked.
When he'd finished his game, he quickly swung his feet over from the other side of the couch to sit up. When he did, his right foot hit me on the side of my head. "Ow!" Matt said.
"Oh, sorry," I replied, I didn't realize you were sitting up. I looked up to him from my position on the ground. "How was your jog?"
"Oh, my jog? It was fine. Kinda hot outside today." I thought he smirked for a second, but I wasn't really sure.
I started to get up to get on the couch, but he quickly went back to his game and reclined again on his armrest, once again taking up the whole couch. I sat back down where I was and scooted over so I was a little closer to him.
His second game wasn't going as well as his first, and occasionally when he'd die when he thought he shouldn't have, he kicked his feet in frustration. One of his kicks hit me hard on the right side of my face and I knocked to the ground for a moment, but when I looked up at him he didn't even seem to have noticed. I sat back up and watched him play as if nothing happened.
"Hey, my feet kinda feel a little stuffy in their socks, take it off for me, would ya?" I looked up at him, but he didn't even look my way, as if he'd expect nothing else but for me to meekly take off his socks. He brought his right leg and just placed his foot in my lap.
With his leg between my shoulder and my face and his foot firmly on my lap in his sweaty white socks, I couldn't help but get an erection, he was so hot and dominating. I shifted my right hand so that he wouldn't be able to feel my rock hard erection, and shifted his heel a little further onto my lap. From here, I could get a much better view of his socked foot. It was a lot bigger and broader than mine, which made sense since he was a few inches taller than I was.
He got frustrated again at his game, and this time his foot pressed hard onto me. I couldn't help but lean forward from the crushing, and my face brushed against his leg. "Hey, what's taking you so long?" He tapped against the back of my head with his left knee.
"I quickly took his feet in both my hands, and I could feel the sweat from his socks. With my left hand struggling to hold up the weight of his heavy heavy leg, my right tugged at his ankle-sock. When I'd gotten it off the heel, I could see his feet were as gorgeous as he was. The bottom of his feet were soft from running, and sweaty, and really really manly. I held onto his heel as I removed the rest of his sock to reveal the rest of his perfect feet. They looked so perfect, that if they hadn't smelled so bad from his sweat, I would've wanted to bring it up to my face to kiss it.
"Hey, you don't mind if I do the other foot myself, do ya? It took you long enough?"
Again, he didn't want for an answer. This time, he brought his left foot around my body and rested it on my left shoulder. With his toes pointed up, he pressed onto the crevice between my shoulder and neck and took the heel off. He then slid his foot down the back of my neck to get the rest of his sock out. I could feel the warmth of his feet on my neck, and I could tell the sweat from it came off a little onto me. He'd just put his smelly feet all over my body without even asking, but that only made me crush on him more. Never had I felt so humiliated. He left his foot there until his match finished.
“So you like me huh?”
“What? No, I…” I couldn’t come up with anything.
"Really?" Matt said, smiling deviously. He took his right foot and turned my face with it so that he could look directly down on me. "Look at you, I'm basically using you as a personal footrest, and you're clearly okay with it, so if you don't have a massive crush on me, what else would it be? Besides, do you know how many times I've caught you staring at me in the hallways at school? You know, what would your parents think if they knew that you were gay?"
I panicked. “I just thought I recognized you.”
He ignored me. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them.” For a second, I was filled with joy and almost regretted not admitting that I liked him. Did he like me after all? Were my dreams coming true?
“I won't tell them as long as you’re a good boy. Why don’t you start by doing all my laundry and make me a sandwich? I'm hungry from my jog.”
I quickly snapped out of it. “Of course Matt, where’s your clothes?”
He pointed with one feet as he continued playing. Already he had lost interest in me.
As I did his laundry and made him lunch, I was angry that Matt had so much power over me, but I still lusted for him. The casual way that he treated me like his servant only made me want him more.
Just as I finished, Matt beckoned me over with a wave of his hand. I walked towards him, not daring to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll let you kiss me if you massage my feet.” He looked at me with that same devious smile.
“Really?”
He looked at me and looked at his feet at the other end of the couch.
I couldn’t believe my luck. Matt was actually going to let me kiss him. Perhaps he liked me after all. If the price for my first kiss was one foot massage, I could live with it. I was a bit submissive and he'd made me touch his feet already, so I didn’t really mind.
I began to kneel by his feet, still propped up past the end of the couch.
“Woah woah woah” he said, “not there.” Matt shifted his position so that he was sitting normally on the couch and didn’t have to tilt his head to look at the screen. Then he pressed a button on the couch, making it recline so that he feet were now propped up at the height of a coffee table. “Massage them there” he said.
I moved over to where Matt’s feet now were. I put one hand on his left foot and as I put the other hand on his right, he said “Hey, don’t block my screen!”
I ducked my face down, and in doing so, almost slammed my face against his feet. My nose caught a whiff of them again, and I realized how ripe and incredibly intense they smelled. I quickly pulled my head to one side. “Can you move towards the middle of the couch a bit more so that I’m not blocking you?”
He looked at me and didn’t move.
I got off my knees and onto my butt and scooted close enough to his feet that I could reach them while sitting up, with my legs beneath the part of the couch that came out when it reclined. I began to massage him again when he commanded “Still blocking the view, move your head lower.”
I couldn’t sit any lower, so I tried moving my head back, but leaning back was too difficult. I had no choice but to lean forwards, and my face was all but buried in his feet as I began to massage them.
As I saw his bare feet only inches away from my face, I was surprised. He was taller than me, I’d guess around 6 feet, but his feet were even bigger than I had thought, at least a size 12, but probably a size 13. The soles of his feet were perfect in shape with the parts of his feet that touched the ground were a reddish-pink from his job. The stink felt like it doubled from when I caught the whiff, and it was almost all that I could do to not move my face away. His feet, aside from the smell, looked clean enough, though his feet were moist from sweat. Still, even though they were so smelly, there was something that oddly drew me to them, as if I really did belong there at his feet.
I started at his toes and began rubbing his feet and massaging them. Matt didn’t say how long it would be, so I kept fighting through the stink with my head leaning towards his feet. My head was so low that I realized there was no way it could be blocking his view of the TV, but I didn’t dare stop or adjust my posture in case I displeased him. At this point, his feet took up almost the entirety of my view.
He crossed one foot over the other after half an hour, and I was forced to scoot even closer to him to massage that foot. Looking up at his feet, I felt like his feet were somehow worth more than I was as a person.
After an hour of massaging the rank feet of my crush, I was scared that he wasn’t even going to let me kiss him. The longer I was at his service, the more I thought that he was doing this just to humiliate me and have complete power over me. Would he make me his servant serving his foul feet then take back his promise of letting me kiss him afterwards? Then, he said, “You know, you still haven't admitted that you like me. Do you?"
I wouldn’t have sat massaging his feet for more than an hour if I didn't have the biggest crush on him, I thought. As I made eye contact with him between the toes of his two feet, I realized he was no longer holding his Xbox controller, but held his phone instead, with the camera facing right towards my face. And for the past few minutes, I had been sitting below his feet, my head just inches away, staring at his feet as I massaged them. There was no way I could explain this. My face was so close anyone would’ve thought I was enjoying it.
Suddenly I was terrified and croaked out just a “yes.” At this point, there was no use trying to maintain any bit of my dignity. I just let Matt humiliate me and now he could send it to everybody I knew. I was about to beg him to delete his video when he commanded, “Now smell.”
“Please Matt, you said I could kiss you if I massaged your feet” I said, trying to at least get something out of my total humiliation.
“Smell or the whole school is going to see how much you enjoy massaging my sweaty feet.”
I threw my face into his feet, almost shaking with fear. My nose was just over the big toe of his right foot, and in my haste my lips ended up touching his big toe. Both my hands held tightly onto that foot while his left foot, which was crossed over his right, just grazed the my cheek as if he were really enjoying how much power he now had over me. I realized quickly that it must’ve looked like I was desperately clutching his foot as I kissed and smelled it, but I was too scared to move away, so I didn’t.
After a minute, he said, “Can you even smell anything from there? Lower.”
I hurried to obey, lowering my face into his foot with my nose between the big toe and the rest of his foot. In my rush, my mouth, which was just touching his big toe, slid down and was jammed into the soft and pink part of his foot, and I got his moist foot sweat all over my lips and face. I sat there helpless as he didn’t command me to stop for an eternity.
Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. I lifted my face away form his feet. “Please Matt, I–“
“Did I tell you to stop, fag?” he questioned, with an angry tone that wasn’t there before. It scared me.
As I thrust my nose back into his feet, feeling his soft and sweaty soles on my face, I felt the first tear coming down my cheek. I couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much. I lowered my face a little into his foot, hoping that it might hide my face and my tears. The more things Matt command me to do, I realized, the more he he had to ruin me. Massaging his feet could be explained, but there was nothing I could say if people saw my face buried in his foot as my hands grasped the heel of the foot I was worshipping.
Matt pulled his feet back and kicked me on the right side of my head, pushing my face towards his left foot. “Now smell my other foot,” he commanded.
I had nothing left in me, so I obeyed without question. By now I could feel my eyes getting watery and tears coming down my face, so I buried my face lower into his foot, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see me.
I realized just how big his feet were. With my chin barely resting on the part of the couch that his feet were elevated on and my mouth covered by the bottom of his foot, my vision was completely dominated by his feet still.
Matt brought his right foot over so that his heel rested on the top of my head. I could hear make a snorting sound, laughing at my place below his feet.
“I can barely feel your face” he said, and I immediately pressed my face harder into his foot. Matt then curled his foot into my hair, playing with my hair and pulling at it while he forced my face to completely dominated by his massive and powerful feet.
A few more minutes later, he commanded me again, “Start kissing.”
I didn’t hesitate to obey, no matter how disgusting it was. It seemed I had already gotten used to the filth of his foot, and this next humiliation didn’t seem so much worse compared to what I had already done.
I could hear him snickering as I started kissing the arch of his foot, since that was where my mouth was. I had to really lean into his feet to reach it.. He must’ve been taken pictures already, but at this point there was nothing I could do but obey my crush. Somehow, I still held out hope that my obeying him well, he might reward me, no matter how small the possibility seemed. He must’ve known I would do anything, as he exercised his complete power over me.
I heard the motor of the couch moving again, and suddenly Matt’s footrest was lowering back down. With his right foot still on top of my head, I had no choice but to strain to lower my head even more while on my hands and knees so that I wouldn’t be disobedient.
Halfway down, I laid flat on my stomach so that my neck wouldn’t be as strained with his toes forcing my face to stay in place as his foot was angled more and more towards the ground. Finally, just as I couldn’t stretch any more, he took his foot off of head, and, not wanting to disobey him in the slightest, I immediately started kissing up the length of his left sole as it moved down. When the couch was no longer reclined, he crossed his right foot over his left, which was on the ground. I kept kissing the left foot, trying not to give him any excuse to punish me for disobedience.
The top of his foot wasn’t as disgusting as the sole, but it could feel my face flush with humiliation for being on my hands and knees while kissing the feet of my crush, worshipping him at his feet.
After at least a hundred kisses, Matt stood up, crushing my right hand beneath the foot I wasn’t kissing as he did so, no doubt on purpose. As he started walking away, with his first step directly on my back, he commanded me “Don’t move an inch.”
So I stayed there, not moving in the slightest for what was at least a few hours. Eventually he returned, out of breath, as I realized he must’ve gone out for summer soccer practice, since he was on the varsity team already. When he came back, he found me in the exact same position on my hands and knees, with my head still faced towards the ground. I had the foolishness to ask, “Please Matt, you said I could kiss you?”
“You’ve already kissed me at least a hundred times. Jack. You think I’d let a fag like you touch me anywhere else but my feet?” he barked as he kicked me in the head for my rudeness.
“You’re a worthless piece of trash, less than my feet, in fact. Where’s your gratitude for my generosity?”
“Thh- Thank you, Matt. I’m sorry I wasn’t grateful. I should’ve been thankful that you let me kiss you so many times. Please forgive me, master.”
The last word just slipped out and I hoped he hadn’t noticed, but Matt of course did.
I could feel him smiling even though my head was still bowed. “Good slave,” he replied.
Matt sat down in the same spot as before. He placed his feet just below my face, and I took this as my sign to remove his socks, this time doing so with my mouth. The socks he wore were long this time, going up well past his shin, and his feet were sweatier and smellier than ever. This time he used me as a footrest with my head bowing to him as he sat on the couch. He dug his heels into the middle of my back.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I obeyed. He took one of his feet off of my back and moved his hand over it, feeling and inspecting his big toe. Then, he planted it firmly over my face, covering it completely.
A new wave of smell and sweat engulfed my senses. My face instantly felt the heat of his feet and he shifted forward in his couch seat, putting even more pressure on my face. With nothing to brace myself against, I could only focus on steading myself and not giving out against the force of his foot and leg as it pressed against me.
Then, I heard the clipping sounds as I realized he was using my face as a stool for him to clip his toenails.
With each clip I was closer to giving in. Each time he shifted his weight, I was able to make my position beneath his foot a tiny bit more comfortable. Finally, he was done with his foot. As he was changing feet, I quickly said, “Please master, you shouldn’t be clipping your own toenails, it would be an honor to do so.”
Matt thought about it for a second. I had no desire to clip his toenails, but I was going to do anything to not have his sweaty foot slammed all over my mouth, nose and face. He put so much pressure against my face that I had trouble breathing.
“Fine,” he said, to my relief.
Finally, he released me. As I lay gasping for breath, my hands at my neck, Matt calmly stood up over me. His two feet were on the ground, on either side of my head. I looked up at him, and saw him looking down at me, with pity on account of how weak I was. His legs were smooth and tanned above me. I quickly looked down again and lowered my head next to his feet. He picked up one foot and kicked at my head, as if toying with me. I was still fighting for air, and after he saw me not even react to his humiliation, he planted the whole of his foot on the side of my face, forcing my head towards the side on the ground, where he moved his other foot so that my mouth was touching his big toe.
Then he started pressing. Instantly I moved my hands to the ankle of the foot that was crushing me. But they were no use, and Matt only stepped harder on my head, making my skull feel as if it were about to split.
“Matt! Please, please please!” I begged, “I’ve learned, I’ll obey master, master, please!!”
Finally, he eased on me. “I can’t hear you!”
“MASTER! I'll do everything you tell me to.”
Matt eased the pressure, but kept his foot on my face. "Good, I'm glad that we're clear."
He got back off of my face, and sat back down. I immediately began clipping his toenails as his other foot rested on my neck. Then, he moved it away, and came back hard, slapping me with his foot. He laughed, and did it again, and I once again I only tried to concentrate on clipping his toenails. He pressed his foot into my face, forcing my head back, then let go.
When I finished clipping his toenails as he played with my head, this time he slapped me again with his feet, but this time so hard that I fell over on my stomach. I hurried to get up and back into position, but Matt planted his foot on my chest, forcing me to stay in that position. In his completely dominating position over me, he once again looked at me with a look that made me feel so pathetic being treated as his slave but still somehow being oddly drawn to it. He took his foot off my chest, and sat back down on the couch, and planted one foot square on my face while the other he crossed his other one over it, adding even more pressure to my face.
"Lick," he commanded.
To be continued…
